Rabble in Arms
by ProcrastinatingPalindrome
Summary: America has doubts about his newly won independence, and requires a little fatherly reassurance from his founding fathers.


John Adams would never deny that he loved his nation. Indeed, he had gone to great lengths, endured countless hours of the infuriating uselessness of the Continental Congress for America's sake. He had fought long and hard for his nation's independence. That did not mean, however, that America was incapable of annoying him. The boy was doing a fine job of that, by disappearing only moments after the treaty had been signed that officially ended the revolution all together.

"Don't fret, John. I'm sure he'll turn up sooner or later," Franklin soothed as they walked the streets of Paris together, searching for their missing nation. Or at least Adams for searching. Franklin seemed more interested in every well dressed (and well endowed) woman they passed.

"And why exactly are you so sure of that?" Adams growled, feeling his patience shriveling with each passing step. "He's only been to France once before, he's entirely too trusting of strangers, he doesn't speak much French-"

"Neither do you, John."

"That's quite aside from the point! There are a thousand things that could go wrong here! And he's been unusually quiet and out of sorts...maybe since Yorktown, now that I think of it. ...Do you think he might be with Jay right now? Maybe we ought to be looking for Jay first-"

"I'm sure he just has a great deal on his mind right now. He has just become a nation, after all. No cause for alarm. Either that or he's decided to go off and explore the finer parts of the city. Which it what I would rather be doing right now, in all honesty."

Adams heaved a sigh. "You aren't taking this seriously at all, Franklin."

"Nonsense, I'm perfectly serious. I just don't see any use in starting a search party because you lost sight of Alfred for a few hours. For all we know, he could be safe and sound back at the hotel-"

"The hotel!" Adams exclaimed. "We haven't checked there yet lately, have we? Come along, Franklin! We'll be there in ten minutes if we walk quickly."

Adams turned and hurried back down the street they came from, careful to keep his pace slow enough for his older companion to keep up.

"Did you notice anything strange about him during the treaty signing?" Franklin called from behind, and Adams slowed his step further.

"Nothing is standing out in my mind. He was quiet, but that isn't new. Why, did you think of something?"

"I was just trying to think of a reason for him to make himself scarce, since you are so convinced that something must be wrong. But I can't think of anything, except that I saw him speaking to that Arthur Kirkland fellow-"

"The one with the eyebrows?"

"That's him. You do know what he is, don't you?"

"He's...England, isn't he? Like Alfred is America. ...Good God, it all still sounds so strange."

"You don't believe it?"

"No, I do...I believe Alfred, at any rate. Can't explain why I do, for the life of me, but-"

"It's just a feeling you have?"

"Same for you, then? I hate to rely on something as insubstantial as a hunch, but...I can't doubt what he is when I talk to him." Adams sighed and straightened his shoulders. "Never mind that. You were saying something about Kirkland?"

"Oh yes. I saw him speaking to Alfred earlier, right before the treaty signing."

"You don't suppose he...said anything to Alfred?"

"I'd assume he did say something. It's difficult to speak without saying anything," Franklin quipped with a barely concealed grin.

"Dammit Franklin, you know what I mean!" Adams snapped. "I'm worried he might have...said something to upset Alfred. I don't doubt there are plenty of hard feelings from England, and well...I'm just concerned about the boy."

"My word, John," Franklin chuckled. "You sound like an overprotective father."

"Don't be absurd," Adams grumbled, determined to not allow Franklin to fluster him. He hurried around the next corner to their hotel ahead of the older man, bounding up the stairs and digging through his pockets for America's room key.

His breath rushed out in a relieved sigh when he saw America perched on the edge of his bed, hunched over and staring at his hands. The lawyer nearly spoke, until he saw the young nation turning his hands over and over, gawking at them as though he had never seen his own fingers before. Franklin had caught up at that point, and gave Adams a questioning look before crossing over into the room.

"Everything alright there, Alfred?" Franklin asked gently.

America dropped his hands into his lap and looked up at the two slowly. The bright flush of alcohol stained his young face slightly, but it had done little to dull his eyes, which somehow seemed more brilliant than ever.

"It kind of...just hit me," he whispered, looking back at his hands with something like awe. "I'm...I'm a _nation_ now, aren't I?"

"Indeed you are,"Adams assured him, stepping closer. "How does it feel? Any different from being a colony?"

America tipped his head thoughtfully, still looking at his hands as though he expected them to throw up an answer to him. "Bigger," he finally settled on. "I feel bigger. Not like my body, but...in my chest. And everything feels so much sharper now. I can...can feel my people all the time now. It was a little fuzzy before, but now..." He gave a tiny, almost hysterical giggle. "I can feel _everything_."

"It isn't painful, is it?" Adams asked, frowning. "I'm sure Franklin can find something for you if it's too uncomfortable-"

"No." America's cowlick swayed back and forth as he shook his head. "It doesn't hurt. It's just a little overwhelming. And I feel sort of prickly all over too."

"That is most likely just nerves. I'm feeling rather prickly myself," Franklin injected, the beginning of a smile twitching at his mouth.

"Not another word, Franklin," Adams warned.

"I don't know what you're talking about. All I said was-"

"Yes, I know what you said, and knowing you that innocent little comment will turn into a bawdy joke in no time."

"I'm hurt, John."

"Poppycock, you're as thick-skinned as an elephant."

"Now you've reminded me of a joke the French have about elephants-"

"Stop right there! I see you smirking, I _know_ it's filthy and I don't want to hear it!"

A chuckle interrupted the argument. America had clapped a hand over his mouth, shaking with quiet laughter.

"Ah, well," Adams sighed awkwardly. "It's good to see you smiling again, Alfred. I can't say I enjoy this silent, broody side of you."

"England always said I was too loud," America said softly, and Adams felt himself bristle up protectively.

"My dear boy," Franklin said, before Adams could get worked up, "we like you loud. We like you unrefined and idealistic and proud."

"For once, you've said something right," Adams granted with a rueful grin. "We really wouldn't have you any other way, Alfred. God knows we wouldn't have gone through all this trouble if we weren't all very fond of you."

America's frame trembled slightly, and he suddenly lunged at Adams, throwing his arms around the startled man. Adams froze, staring wide eyed at Franklin, who waved him on encouragingly. Slowly, he gave the boy an awkward pat on the head.

"Er...there there," he muttered uncomfortably. Fighting for his nation's cause in Congress was one thing. Comforting said nation while being clung to was beyond Adams' expertise. "There's nothing to be sad about. You ought to be happy and proud of yourself!"

"I-I am!" America quavered, tightening his grip around Adams until it had gotten a bit painful. "I just...I've never done any of this before, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do next, and I-I'm scared-"

"I'm afraid we...can't help you there, Alfred," Adams wheezed. "Neither of...us have ever been nations before either and...and...my boy, remember your strength!"

America let go with a guilty look. "Sorry. I forgot."

Adams rubbed his chest, taking a few deep breaths before waving it off. "Nothing to worry about."

There was an uncomfortable pause, as America looked down at his shoes. "Do you think I'm silly? For being so...scared about all this?"

"Not in the least," Franklin assured him. "I'm terrified, myself."

"What he means," Adams corrected when America's eyes went wide, "is that we are all venturing into unmarked territory. We are doing something that hasn't been done before. Only a fool wouldn't be worried."

"Are you afraid I'm going to fail? England says I won't last a decade," America said faintly.

"Utter nonsense," Adams said firmly. So it _was_ Kirkland who had set Alfred off. Adams made a mental note to keep the elder nation away from the younger in the future. "You're already well on your way to becoming a true nation. You have your own flag, your own national bird-"

"Which I don't approve of," Franklin interrupted sourly. "I've said it a thousand times, the turkey is a much more suitable-"

"Yes, yes, we've heard, Franklin," Adams snapped. "And chin up, Alfred. Things are going to be immensely difficult from here on out, but for God's sake, you've already survived a fight with the greatest empire on earth. I'm certain you can withstand whatever comes after this."

America puffed up slightly with pride. "He didn't think I could do it, did he? And I proved him wrong!" The next second he had deflated again. "But I still don't know what to do next, and I don't know if...if I can do it by myself. I used to do everything with England, for better or worse, but now..."

"I'm almost offended that you think I would help you along this far only to abandon you now."

Those brilliant blue eyes came up again, wide and almost hopeful.

"Surely you didn't think you were alone with this burden? You won't be getting ride of obnoxious, disliked John Adams that easily," Adams said with a grin. "And I doubt Franklin is going anywhere anytime soon, except maybe to a brothel."

"There you are again, John, always slandering my good name!" Franklin complained.

"What _good name_?"

Franklin snorted dismissively before turning back to America. "Yes, I'm afraid you're stuck with me too. And you've still got that boring, stuffy General Washington on your side as well, and young Tom Jefferson, and of course Mr. Hancock too...you've got quite a few good men with you now. Surely you don't think we would let you flounder and fail!"

America finally smiled again, warm and hopeful. Adams found it to be infectious too, as he stretched out his hand. "That's more like it. And allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your newly won status as a nation, the United States of America. I'm certain you'll become a great one."

Historical Notes:  
The Treaty of Paris was signed in 1783, officially ending the American Revolution. John Adams, Benjamin Franklin and John Jay signed for the United States, David Hartley for Britain. John Adams had a few negative experiences in England that really soured his feelings about the people in general.

Happy 234th Birthday, America!


End file.
